


you know what to do

by apollonian



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Werewolves, Fluff and Humor, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-26
Updated: 2015-08-26
Packaged: 2018-04-15 13:57:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4609332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apollonian/pseuds/apollonian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I want a high school au where Stiles starts leaving Lydia notes in her locker but he gets the wrong number and accidentally leaves them in Derek’s locker instead and Derek’s like, “‘Your hair looks particularly luscious today.’ The hell?” But you know he swaggers a bit after that like, <i>damn right my hair is luscious</i>. [Inspired by <a href="http://katieandbarrel.tumblr.com/post/123105239367/i-want-a-high-school-au-where-stiles-starts%20post">this</a> post.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	you know what to do

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the tumblr post above. I saw that post and I knew how I wanted it to start and how I wanted it to end, but the middle was the part that really took me ages to write. 
> 
> I'm still not entirely pleased with it, but I'll just end up re-writing it over and over again, so here it is. I hope you enjoy, and if you spot any errors please let me know!

“Danny! Hey, Danny!” Stiles yells down the hallway as he spots Danny exiting the bathroom.

Danny turns around, but when he sees Stiles, he very pointedly rolls his eyes, shakes his head in an obvious  _no_ , and starts speed walking away from him.

“Dammit,” Stiles mutters, and puts his elbows to good use, pushing his way through the crowded hallway as fast as he can to reach Danny. Fortunately, as Scott has informed him many times, his elbows are basically pointy weapons of pain, and he’s able to catch up to Danny at the corner.

“He- _ey_ , Danny boy,” he says, raising his hand for a fist-bump. Danny just stares at him and Stiles takes the hint and slowly lowers his hand back down.

“So, I was wondering—” he begins, but Danny cuts him off.

“I know you seem to have the memory of a goldfish, Stiles, but seriously, I am not your gay Yoda and I am not going to answer your stupid questions about whether you’re attractive to gay guys.”

“Rude,” says Stiles, mildly offended. “Anyway, that was totally not what I wanted to ask you at all.”

Danny narrows his eyes at him, but doesn’t immediately run away, so Stiles takes that as a good sign and continues.

“I was wondering if you could tell me Lydia’s locker number – not for any nefarious reasons! Just, you know, it’s junior year, and I think I finally have a real shot with her, now that she’s dumped Jackson for good.”

Danny rolls his eyes again.

“Look, you’ve grown up pretty well from that weedy eighth grader you used to be,” he says, “But I’m telling you, for your own sanity, stop chasing after Lydia. It’s never going to go anywhere.”

Stiles, who’d been preening at the grown up well comment, stops and gives his most beseeching look to Danny.

“Danny, c’mon!” he says, clutching his hands in a pleading gesture. “I have a whole plan and everything, and I have the utmost faith that this is going to work.”

Danny sighs, but Stiles knows he won’t be able to resist his imploring look. He’s worked hard on that – it even works on his dad sometimes. Just to be sure though, he adds in the big puppy dog eyes he learned from Scott, who can be surprisingly devious, and waits until Danny looks him in the eye.

“Fine,” Danny sighs, and Stiles fist-pumps, almost hitting a freshman in the process. “But you have to promise me that it’s not going to be anything over-the-top, and that you won’t harass her if she tells you to stop whatever you’re doing.”

“Psh, I have totally mastered the art of giving subtle, tasteful gifts,” Stiles says, and grins when Danny snorts. “And yeah, of course, I’m not a creep, if Lydia’s not going for it then I’m definitely going to stop.”

“Alright then,” Danny says. “This year her locker number’s – 1743, I think.”

“Awesome,” Stiles says, sincerely. “Thanks, Danny! You won’t regret this!”

He shoots him a thumbs-up and then starts heading the opposite way, he’s only got three minutes to get to economics if he doesn’t want Finstock to give him detention, and it’s the first week of junior year, detention is not the right way to start things off. He looks back over his shoulder once when he hears Danny call his name, and he sees him waving frantically, but Stiles figures Danny might be having second thoughts so he just waves back and starts jogging to the social sciences hallway.

This is going to be a great year, and his plan to woo Lydia is going to be the icing on top of the cake, no matter what Scott says. Stiles did extensive research during the summer to make it work (okay, he mostly watched rom-coms on Netflix and scoured through Lydia’s carefully maintained Facebook page, but that’s totally research) and he just _knows_ everything’s going to turn out great.

* * *

The next day, he gets to school early to start off with phase one of his plan, which involves leaving little notes in Lydia’s locker to show that there’s at least one person in this school (aside from Danny and Jackson) who knows more about her than the facade she presents and is willing to get to know her even better.

He’s been very thorough in planning out how to write his notes. They’ll be written on pieces of ubiquitous printer paper, and he’ll even write them in all capitals so that they’re harder to identify. He’s paranoid that somehow Lydia might find out he’s the one writing the letters before he’s ready to let her know (it’s possible, she’s a genius), so he’s just taking all necessary measures.

Baby steps, though, so the first note he’s written says, “You have luscious hair,” and it’s true. Lydia’s hair is this perfect glossy red and he has no idea how she gets it to look like that everyday, but he figures it’s a good start – something that will give her a little ego boost, not that she needs it, probably, but still – and something that’s safe ground, that everybody knows.

Once he’s at school, he hurries to locker 1743, and slips the note in its little envelope into it. After it’s gone in, he stands there for a while, but then he realizes that it’s still pretty early and Lydia usually doesn’t reach school until, like, five minutes before homeroom, so he goes to the library to hang out and wait.

He gets lost in a book about the history of science fiction, and only realizes that he’s missed his chance to see Lydia’s immediate reaction to his note when the five-minute bell rings for homeroom and he jumps and hits his knee against the table. Groaning and ignoring the librarian’s judgmental look, he heads to his homeroom, which, of course, is on the clear opposite side of the building from Lydia’s.

After homeroom, which he mostly spends daydreaming about Lydia’s possible reactions to his note, he heads to chemistry with Harris, the dick. At least he’ll get to see Lydia there. On the way he passes through the hallway with Lydia’s locker, and he slows down deliberately to see if she’s there.

Unfortunately, she isn’t, but Derek Hale and his gaggle of leather-clad friends are taking up all the space in front of Lydia’s locker and the ones around it. Derek’s glaring at a piece of paper, and running a hand through his hair, and wow, he’s really gotten even prettier over the summer. Not that Stiles keeps track of Derek’s levels of attractiveness or anything! It’s just that Derek’s probably tied with Lydia for the hottest person at the school, and it’s kind of hard not to notice him.

And he might have been the guy that finally cemented Stiles’ bisexuality, but that’s not relevant at all, nope.

Anyway, Derek’s looking like a cute confused puppy, all big eyes and cocked head, and Erica and Isaac, two of the members of his gang, are giggling and whispering to themselves, and Stiles snaps his eyes back to the front before they catch his eye because he’s paranoid and he does not want to be caught staring at Derek.

People already know him as the guy with the hopeless crush on Lydia Martin, there’s no point in letting his hopeless crush on Derek slip out too.

* * *

He doesn’t share Chem with Scott this semester, so he has to brave the horrors of Harris alone. At least Lydia’s there with him, even though she’s sitting across the classroom.

He doesn’t see Lydia do anything particularly out of the ordinary though. She finishes the worksheet Harris assigns them well before anyone else, but pretends to be still working on it, all the while ignoring Jackson’s pleas for help. She’s not paying any particular attention to her hair, but Stiles doesn’t know if she didn’t see the note, or if she saw it and dismissed it, or if she’s secretly flattered but not showing it.

He tries to stealthily keep one eye on her and one on his worksheet, but that strategy fails when Harris comes and hovers ominously near his table, and Stiles sighs and focuses on his worksheet.

The period goes by without any further insight, and soon he’s heading to English, which he shares with Derek this year. Due to Mrs. Zwiebel’s mandatory seating chart, he’s stuck sitting behind Derek, and gets to gaze at the back of his head for all of the 75 minutes of class. It _is_ a pretty nice head, though.

He’s never known Derek to be fidgety, but today he’s all over the place, and it’s distracting Stiles from Mrs. Zwiebel’s monologue. Derek keeps on running his fingers through his hair, mussing it up quite thoroughly since he doesn’t seem to have gelled it today and it’s grown out a bit. Stiles’ gaze gets caught on the way he scratches a little at the back of his neck, where the hairline gives way to smooth skin, and he’s so out of it that he jumps and bangs his knee on the desk (again, goddammit) when Derek suddenly turns around and looks at him quizzically.

“Want to be partners?” he says in his surprisingly smooth voice.

“Huh?” Stiles responds intelligently.

“Want to be partners?” Derek repeats. “For the poem analysis?”

“Poem...” Stiles trails off, and then notices the sheets of paper being passed around the room. “Oh, yeah, sure!” he says, and Derek smiles at him, a tiny thing but a smile nonetheless.

Despite the awkward start, they work well together and get the poem annotated quickly. Stiles hasn’t really talked to Derek a lot, just admired him from a distance. He’s interacted more with Lydia, although their interactions have only consisted of him asking her to the winter formal and prom every year and getting shot down kind of absently.

Anyway, it’s not so hard to talk to Derek after a while, Stiles discovers. Derek isn’t as much of a talker as Stiles, but he does contribute, and they both discover a mutual love of Percy Jackson, which carries them over till the end of the period.

Stiles has a free next, which he’s going to spend in the library and work on more notes for Lydia. He waves goodbye to Derek and he feels an odd lightness in his chest when Derek smiles that tiny smile in response, and watches him run his hand through his dark hair again. He sure has a thing for his hair today - must be the lack of gel.

When he gets to the library, he picks a table out of the librarian’s eyeshot and pulls out his phone to text Scott, who has French with Lydia and Allison, his current crush, now.

**To: Scott**

_dropped the note in Lydia’s locker but didn’t see her do anything special in chem, can u pls see if she says anything to allison about it?_

**From: Scott**

_sure!! partnering up w/allison for project today wish me luck!!_

**To: Scott**

_best of luck, you love-sick fool_

**From: Scott**

_u’re one to talk_

Scott has a point. Stiles stuffs his phone back in his pocket and pulls out his binder, trying to think about the next note he wants to write. His mind keeps on drifting back to Derek and his soft-looking hair though, and he thinks back to their easy conversation in class today, and wonders if he would ever have a shot with Derek.

Even putting aside how Derek’s way too good-looking than any high school junior has the right to be, and how well he pulls off his leather jacket, when in comparison Stiles is probably like, a 6.5 out of 10, Derek’s never run in the same circles as Stiles has and probably has people lusting after him all the time. Their one single conversation doesn’t necessarily mean they’re made for each other.

And, of course, Stiles has Lydia and his master plan to think about.

After school, Scott doesn’t tell him anything about Lydia other than “she looked normal, dude, I don’t know what to tell you,” but then regales him with the specifics of how Allison has lovely chestnut hair. Stiles loves Scott, really, but sometimes he’s just not helpful.

* * *

The next day, Stiles drops by Lydia’s locker and pops in a note saying “You’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met, and you shouldn’t have to hide it.” It’s absolutely true, and Stiles knows that Lydia’s going to be a shoo-in for valedictorian next year even if she half-asses all of her classes. He doesn’t quite understand why she thinks she has to hide her genius in order to preserve her popularity, but then again, that’s probably why he’s not friends with Beacon Hills’ most popular kids.

After dropping off the note, he rushes to homeroom, since he woke up late and barely managed to get to school before the bell. He’s missed his chance to see Lydia’s reaction again, but that’s all right, they’re both in yearbook (Stiles because he wanted an easy elective to balance out his AP classes, Lydia because that would allow her to design the yearbook the way she wants it) later in the day and he can see if anything changes then.

Although honestly, yearbook isn’t the best place for that. It’s not like it’s the most mentally taxing class the high school has to offer, but that’s the only other class he shares with her, so he has to take what he’s given. Yearbook’s the last class of the day though, and he still has to make it through biology and calculus and Spanish before he gets there.

Biology is a breeze – Ms. Kapoor is the most easy-going teacher he’s ever had, and most of the period is devoted to watching a movie about plants. Calculus is not a breeze, but Stiles does notice that Derek is weirdly outspoken in class. He’s had math with Derek ever since freshman year, and Derek’s always kept his head down and scribbled furiously in his notebook, never even raising his hand. Stiles had always assumed math just wasn’t his thing and let it go.

Today, though, Derek’s actually participating, raising his hand and even volunteering to go to the board to solve a problem, which Stiles hates with a passion and never does. Derek writes out the solution in a matter of minutes, covering the board in his neat little cursive and Stiles is maybe a little bit turned on, which is not a statement he ever thought he’d make in calc class. He smiles at Derek as Derek sits down, and Derek actually smiles back, shyly, and Stiles resists the urge to reach over and touch his dimples (which, he did not know Derek had dimples. Dimples!).

Spanish passes in a daze. He’s not really sure what goes on, since he’s lost in thought about Derek and his unexpected dimples. In yearbook, though, he wakes up and thoroughly enjoys Lydia orchestrating a coup over the hapless substitute (since the actual yearbook teacher’s out on maternity leave) and then bossing everyone around so that work gets done at a scarily efficient pace.

Stiles isn’t sure if it’s Lydia’s natural attitude in a class like yearbook or if it’s his note giving her a boost but either way, he’s impressed. He didn’t even know yearbook would _have_ work in the first week of school.

* * *

Stiles updates Scott on the plan as they’re walking home, and in return, listens to Scott moon about Allison.

“She _smiled_ at me today, Stiles!” Scott says, hearts in his eyes. “And she has these pretty dimples and they were aimed right at me. I think she might like me!”

“Of course she likes you, Scott,” Stiles says, patting Scott on the back. “You’re a catch.”

“Do you think it would be weird if I told her that I love her dimples?” Scott asks.

“Well,” Stiles says, slinging an arm across Scott’s back and trying not to think about Derek’s cute dimples, “In my vast experience, telling her that randomly probably would sound a little weird but if you can slip it into conversation you’re probably good to go.”

“Oh, okay,” Scott says and smiles his puppy smile. Stiles’ heart swells with love for him, as it always does when Scott pulls out that particular smile, and he resists the urge to give him a noogie.

“Wait,” Scott says, the smile replaced by a frown. “What vast experience? You don’t have _any_ experience.”

Stiles pulls his hand back and mock-gasps. “Rude!” he says, and pulls Scott into the noogie after all, laughing.

Later, when he’s finally home, his suppressed thoughts about Derek’s dimples come rushing back, and he thinks that he’d like to see Derek smile more, just to see those dimples peek out again. He wonders what happens to them when Derek laughs.

Does Lydia have dimples? He doesn’t know that, either, but hey, that should be the subject of one of his notes! Stiles is a genius.

* * *

The next day, he rushes out the door and in his eagerness to get to school and put in today’s note in Lydia’s locker, he crashes into his dad and barely avoids breaking his nose. As it is, they both groan and rub their foreheads where they clonked together, and then his dad drops his hand and fixes Stiles with a suspicious look.

“You’re up early,” he says, taking in the way Stiles is almost vibrating with energy. “Did you take your medicine?”

“Yup!” Stiles says, grinning at him. “I’m just excited for school! Learning new things, expanding our young minds…stuff like that.”

“Uh-huh,” his dad says, giving him a skeptical look. Thankfully, he doesn’t investigate any further and lets Stiles go with a pat on the back, and Stiles takes the reprieve and runs.

He’s pretty proud of today’s note, which is complimenting Lydia’s eyes. He’d googled around yesterday and found a line about “almond-shaped eyes,” which he thought was quite poetic. It suits Lydia’s hazel eyes perfectly and since it focused on her face, it would give him a nice transition to writing about dimples, too (Stiles totally has transitions down).

He drops the note in the locker when he gets to school, and then goes to get his stuff out of his own locker, planning on coming back to Lydia’s and finallyseeing her reaction. When he goes back, though, Derek and his posse are crowding around the lockers again, and Stiles debates about waiting there for Lydia to show up or just giving it up as a lost cause.

He’s trying to lurk in the shadows while deciding what to do, but then Derek makes eye contact with him and smiles tentatively. Stiles just stares at him for a moment, feeling his face heat up as Derek’s dimples show up, just a little. When Derek raises his hand to call him over, Stiles panics, waves, points to his watch, and flees.

He squirms through homeroom and econ, unable to pay attention at all. Derek probably thinks he’s a giant doofus now, after his flailing about in the hallway. Why couldn’t he have just gone up to him and talked like a normal person? It was all Derek’s dimples’ fault, probably. They short-circuited his brain. Derek already has those cheekbones and that killer jawline, adding in the dimples is simply overkill.

Anyway. It’s the dimples’ fault.

Once he’s settled that, he finally manages to stop writhing in silent embarrassment long enough to get to chemistry and get a seat closer to Lydia. Harris is feeling merciful today, thankfully, and he just gives a short lecture and hands out a worksheet to the class, and Stiles cheers internally when Harris retreats to his desk and pulls out a newspaper.

Without the looming threat of Harris watching him, he’s able to get through the worksheet quickly and then focus his attention on Lydia…who is not paying any attention to anything except her phone. Stiles sighs and puts his head down on the desk, occasionally watching Lydia text rapidly all through till the end of the period.

By the time he gets to English, he’s frustrated that Lydia’s not showing any visible reaction to his notes – there hasn’t even been any gossip about her having a secret admirer! – and he’s even more grumpy when he remembers that he has to sit behind Derek and remember the failed interaction from the morning again.

He slams his backpack down onto the desk and throws himself into his chair, sighing. Derek turns around as Stiles is pushing the backpack down to the floor and looks at him, eyebrows furrowed. It’s not a mocking or a teasing look, like Stiles had feared, but more like…a worried one.

He’s mulling that over when Derek asks, “Are you okay?”

Stiles smiles wanly and shrugs. “Yeah, just a long day, you know?” He’s proud of himself for being coherent after the morning’s disaster, and Derek doesn’t act like anything’s wrong either, just nods back and turns around as Mrs. Zwiebel calls the class to order.

They’re still working on poem analysis, so he pairs up with Derek again to work on a compare and contrast list for two poems. While Derek’s pushing his desk and chair around to sit next to him, Stiles pulls out a sheet of paper and out of habit, writes his and Derek’s name and the title in block letters on the top of the sheet. He’d stopped using his regular handwriting to do that ever since that disaster in fifth grade when the teacher couldn’t read his handwriting and gave him an F for not turning in the paper.

When Derek settles down in his chair, he glances over at the sheet of paper and does a double-take, eyes flicking up to Stiles and then back to the paper. Stiles looks down, checks the sheet for any incriminating stains or weird doodles, but it’s empty except for his name and the title. Maybe Derek’s just shocked at the incredible neatness of his print lettering compared to his usual handwriting.

“Hey,” Stiles says, reaches over to touch Derek’s hand when he doesn’t respond, still looking at the paper like it holds the answer to life, the universe, and everything. Derek jumps at the contact, blushes (Stiles’ heart melts a little) and shakes his head to focus, looking straight into Stiles’ eyes.

Stiles loses his train of thought. Derek’s eyes are incredible ( _heterochromia_ , his mind supplies), blue and green and amber, and have they _always_ been that color? Surely Stiles would have noticed before.

“What color does your license say your eyes are?” he blurts out, and curses himself as Derek makes a confused face.

“Um, green?” Derek replies. “Why?”

 _Green._ The people at the DMV clearly haven’t seen Derek’s eyes properly.

“No reason! None! Let’s just get started on the poetry analysis,” Stiles says, slapping the desk and making both of them jump.

* * *

As they’re leaving class, Derek turns around, asks, “Hey, can I have your phone number? You’re good at English, and it’ll be nice to have a study buddy.”

Stiles nods, hands over his phone, and gets Derek’s in return and tries not to swoon a little inside. One of his crushes is asking for his phone number! Granted, it’s purely for educational purposes, but hey, it’s something that Lydia’s never done.

They exchange their phones again, and Derek positively beams at him, and Stiles – Stiles walks into the door of the classroom. It’s not his proudest moment.

It does get him Derek’s hands wrapped around his elbows though, as he checks him over, and once Stiles reassures him that this isn’t anything too out of the ordinary, just Stiles being Stiles, they go their separate ways. He can feel the weight of Derek’s hands for the rest of the day, and it’s not exactly an unwelcome sensation.

As it turns out, Derek is much more talkative over text. And not just about English stuff. He texts Stiles about _everything_ – the substitute in his physics class, the stench in the boys bathroom in the math hallway, his sisters ganging up on him, his dad’s amazing blueberry crumble – and Stiles can’t help but text him back.

It’s a good thing he’s got unlimited texting.

Derek is pretty fun to talk to, though, and Stiles quickly finds out that he’s as much of a nerd as Stiles is. He did not predict that his junior year would include calling Derek Hale one of his friends, but that’s the way it is, and the new normal apparently includes Derek and his posse coming over to sit with Scott and Stiles at lunch.

The first time they come over, Erica and Isaac flank in Scott, who’s paused with his sandwich halfway to his mouth, a piece of lettuce slowly dropping out. Derek slides in next to Stiles and Boyd next to Derek, and Stiles decides prudently to keep his mouth shut when he sees the big smile on Derek’s face and the predatory looks on Erica and Isaac’s faces. Boyd smiles too – at Scott, really, not at Stiles – but still, it’s a step up from not being acknowledged at all.

He launches into one of his standard comic book rants as if nothing’s changed, and Scott, reassured, goes back to his sandwich, not even flinching when Erica and Isaac squeeze him in to steal the French fries off of Stiles’ tray.

Stiles discovers that Erica’s a DC fan too, and he’s overjoyed, until Derek butts into their conversation about Batman with a grumpy, “Marvel’s better.”

“What?” Stiles asks. “You’re a Marvel fan? You read _comic books?”_

Derek shrugs, but his ears are pink, and Stiles is so on to him. He and Erica gang up on him, teasing him relentlessly until Isaac proclaims that he loves Marvel too, and suddenly they’re all in a loud conversation about Marvel versus DC and Stiles hasn’t had this much fun with people other than Scott in a long time. He kind of likes it a lot, and he likes it even better when it becomes a daily thing.

And if Stiles occasionally forgets to bring notes for Lydia in the morning because he’s half-asleep from having texted Derek all night and he’s banned from having coffee, well, it’s not a big deal. The plan is still ongoing, it’s just…slowing down a little. He would have never managed to keep up the a-note-a-day pace anyway. He still has a lot of good material to use, but absence makes the heart grow fonder, so Lydia will be more pleasantly surprised by an unexpected note than an expected one.

He does make sure to drop in the note about dimples, though. He’s given up on hanging around Lydia’s locker for her to show up, he always gets suckered into conversation with Derek anyway, but he keeps an eye out for Lydia’s smiles during chemistry, but those are as rare as ever. Stiles is disappointed, but not really surprised at this point. Lydia’s a hard nut to crack, but he always knew that.

In English, the last remnants of his disappointment wash away when he notices that Derek’s oddly happy today. His grin doesn’t even looked overly forced, and the sight of _his_ dimples manages to distract Stiles all throughout class.

* * *

 Derek catches up with him as he’s leaving class, and looking unusually nervous, asks him, “Hey, do you want to meet up after school tomorrow? There’s a calc test coming up soon and I’d like to study with you…”

“Sure,” Stiles says cheerfully. “It’s a date.” Derek’s a great study partner for English, and he doesn’t doubt that he’ll be great for calculus too.

Derek smiles and then does a double-take, turning bright red. He mumbles something that sounds like “I’ll see you at the library then,” and then turns and practically sprints away.

Stiles looks after him, confused. Finalizing a study date isn’t something that’s embarrassing, is it? Maybe Derek just needed to use the bathroom immediately.

Stiles brings it up to Scott on the way back from school. He’s been mulling over Derek’s reaction all day, and he needs an outside opinion.

“…and then I say, ‘sure, it’s a date,’ and then he just turns red and runs away! What, is studying with me something to be embarrassed about?”

Scott stops, suddenly, and Stiles stops with him, surprised. Scott grabs Stiles by the shoulders, looks deeply into his eyes, and says, “Stiles. You cannot be this oblivious. Derek was not embarrassed.”

“I have no idea what you’re saying right now,” Stiles says. People just don’t randomly turn red, of course Derek must have been embarrassed or angry or _something_.

Scott sighs, rolls his eyes and asks, “How’s your plan for Lydia going?”

“Pretty good, I mean, you know that the notes have been slowing down but I put the one about dimples in her locker today.”

Scott hums disbelievingly, and Stiles says, “What, dude, I already knew she wasn’t going to just fall in love with her secret admirer. It’ll take some time.”

He decides to change the subject when Scott’s mouth twists, and he says, “But really dude, forget about Lydia for just a second, but why did Derek run away? What do you mean he wasn’t embarrassed?”

Scott sighs and says, “Stiles, man, just use that brain of yours for once.”

Stiles scowls at him, and Scott changes the topic to Allison and her beautiful everything, and the conversation gets derailed from there.

* * *

The next day, Stiles forgets to bring a note for Lydia, but it’s okay because he wouldn’t have any idea what to put on it anyway. He spent half of the night watching Netflix and the other half thinking about Derek and he’s kind of addled right now.

That’s probably why he’s so slow to catch on when Danny finds him in the library and says, “Dude, I’m sorry, I realized I accidentally told you Lydia’s locker from last year and not this year, and you’re a hard man to find, Stilinski, especially now that you’re hanging out with Hale and he keeps on glaring at me.”

“What,” says Stiles.

Danny rolls his eyes and says it slower this time. “I gave you the wrong locker number on accident, so 1743 isn’t Lydia’s locker number.”

“But, no, but – I’ve been putting notes in it! For Lydia!” Stiles whisper-yells, mindful of the librarians. “It has to be Lydia’s locker!”

“Sorry, man,” Danny shrugs. “Lydia’s locker’s #3009 this year, actually, and no, I don’t know who’s locker you’ve been dropping notes into all this time.”

Stiles is – shell-shocked. He has to find out who’s been getting Lydia’s notes all this time. He gets up, vaguely pats Danny on the shoulder, and as soon as he’s out of the library, races to Lydia’s— _not_ Lydia’s locker—and as he has been noticing since school started, he sees Derek and Erica and Isaac and Boyd crowding around there, and Derek’s opening the locker, and oh my god. _Derek’s_ been getting Lydia’s notes. Stiles has been secretly wooing Derek all this time. He can’t deal with this right now. He bangs his head on a nearby locker, and escapes to biology before Derek sees him.

Biology’s a blur, and in calculus he smiles weakly at Derek before putting his head down and steadfastly ignoring him for the rest of the period. He races off as soon as the bell rings, hides in one of the bathrooms and texts Scott.

**To Scott**

_buddy i really need ur help meet me after school @ the locker room k pls_

**From Scott**

_yeah sure dude but r u ok??? do u need me to kill someone bc i will totally do that 4 u_

**To Scott**

_thanks bro ilu but i don’t think that’s needed yet. see u then tho_

He’s distracted all the way through Spanish, too, and he manages to avoid lunch by hiding in one of the empty art classrooms and scarfing down his food. His phone vibrates incessantly with texts, but he silences it and throws it into his bag. He’ll deal with this later, once he’s talked to Scott.

He’s distracted through yearbook, too, or at least, he is, until Lydia comes up and slams an old yearbook on his desk, making him yelp and jump out of his skin.

“What the hell, Lydia?” he says, heart racing.

She glares at him, taking in his disheveled hair and the empty notebook that he had clearly not been brainstorming yearbook design ideas in.

“Where’s your head today, Stilinski?” she barks, and wow, Stiles wasn’t really sure that she actually knew his name. His expression probably betrays his shock, and she rolls her eyes and sighs.

“I know who you are, Stiles, you ask me out like clockwork for each dance every year, and you’re my best competition for valedictorian.” She crosses her arms and looks down her nose at him. “Also it’s hard to miss you when you’re constantly staring at me in class.”

Stiles finally finds his voice and says, “Well, that’s mostly because I’m in awe of your strategic thinking,” and smiles a little.

“As you well should be,” Lydia says. “But your head’s clearly elsewhere today, so get it straight and figure out what you’re going to tell the girl – or guy – you’ve been mooning over, and get to work.”

Stiles stares at her as she walks away, heels clicking, and then he realizes he just had a proper conversation with Lydia Martin, and he didn’t make a fool out of himself.

He didn’t make a fool out of himself, and he didn’t feel anything more for her than the respect and awe he usually feels – not even a little hint of heart-fluttering excitement.

Then the second part of her little speech sinks in – mooning over a _guy_ – and looks like today’s apparently the day for big emotional realizations. He’s not in love with Lydia anymore – he’s not even sure he ever really was. The person who he _is_ kinda-sorta-maybe in love with…well, he just ignored him for the entirety of calculus and he has a study date with him after school.

Stiles really needs to talk to Scott.

The rest of yearbook flies by quickly, with Lydia giving him an approving look when he shows her the list of designs he came up with, and telling him that she’s glad he’s finally moving on from her (to which Stiles just blinks, surprised, and then chalks it up to her being a genius).

As soon as the bell rings though, Stiles gathers his stuff and speeds to the locker room. Once he spots Scott hanging out on one of the benches, he sits down next to him and says, “Oh my god, Scott, I have a crush on Derek.”

Scott stares at him. “That’s not new, dude. Everyone knows.”

Stiles squawks and flails and says, “What do you mean, _everyone?_ ”

Scott, dodging his arms with the ease of long practice, elaborates. “Like, I’m pretty sure all of Derek’s friends know. You look at him with heart-eyes all the time, man, and it’s even worse than the look you used to give Lydia when she did debates in English, and _that_ wasn’t subtle at all.”

Stiles groans. “Ugh, okay, but there’s another problem. All this time I thought I was leaving notes in Lydia’s locker, but Danny apparently gave me the wrong number and that’s actually Derek’s locker! What do I do, Scott? How do I explain this to him? He’ll probably storm off before I can even tell him about my crush on him.”

“ _Dude_ ,” Scott says, “I told you about this! I can’t believe you’re this oblivious. Derek has a massive crush on you too! He gets this gross goo-goo face when he looks at you, it’s ridiculous.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” Stiles says. This sounds too good to be true. “And I don’t remember you telling me, ‘hey, Derek has a crush on you so you know, look out for that.’”

“I told you yesterday when you just talked about Derek and your study date together the entire time we walked home!” Scott says, indignant. “It’s obvious that he didn’t just ask you out for a study date, it’s a _date_ -date.”

“When did you become the master of relationships,” Stiles mutters. Then he focuses on the more pressing issue. “Okay, fine, that’s all well and good for now, but he’s going to be pissed when I tell him that I left all those cheesy notes for Lydia!”

“Psh no, he isn’t,” Scott says, rolling his eyes. “Stop being a drama llama and just explain it to him. Derek’s a reasonable guy; if he really likes you he’ll stick around and understand. Plus, you told me what you were writing for all your notes and they could honestly all apply to Derek too.”

Stiles goggles at him for a moment, and then he realizes Scott’s actually right about the notes. They might have been for Lydia originally, but he was really thinking more about Derek as he wrote them. Dammit, his subconscious is a wily bastard.

Scott interrupts his moment of self-realization (another one today, Stiles is on a roll) and says, “Aren’t you going to be late for your date?”

Stiles curses, leaps up and hugs Scott. “If Derek mauls me in anger, I’ll come back and kill you and then you’ll have to avenge me.”

Scott pushes him away, snorting, and says, “Please, more like he’ll maul you sexually because he can’t resist you and your charms.”

Stiles scrunches up his nose, opening his mouth to retort when Scott says, “Just go and tell him, okay? You’ll be fine.”

Stiles can’t stay strong in the face of Scott’s optimism, so he goes.

He spots Derek sitting at one of the secluded corner tables in the library, looking as nervous as Stiles feels. He’s clicking his pen and when he sees Stiles coming over, his face lights up and he grins at him, and Stiles can’t believe he didn’t see this before.

He also can’t believe he let Scott talk him into this, he feels like he might puke. He manages to pull out a smile anyway as he sits down, and Derek responds with an even bigger grin, eyes scrunching up, and they sit in silence like dorks for a moment before Stiles can’t take it anymore.

He blurts out “I’m the one who’s been leaving notes in your locker,” and then resists the urge to facepalm.

Derek looks nonplussed for a second, and then casually says, “Yeah, I know.”

Stiles is completely shocked. “You _know_? _How_?”

“I thought you knew that I knew! You wrote in block letters in English that day and I’d never seen you do that before, so I thought that was like, a sign. From you to me.”

“What, when did this happen?”

“Like, a couple days after we first started talking?”

Stiles has to think about it for a minute or so but then he remembers. “When you stared at that sheet of paper like it had all the secrets to the universe on it? That day?”

When Derek nods shyly, Stiles flails around and says, “Dude, but I always write titles and names in block! It’s a whole thing from like fifth grade! Any…signaling was completely unintentional.”

Derek’s face falls and he says, “Oh.” They sit in silence again while Stiles figures out what to say and Derek fidgets, twisting his fingers around each other.

Finally Stiles curses internally, plucks up his courage and grabs Derek’s fingers in his hand. Derek startles, looks up at him with his pretty eyes all wide, and Stiles feels his face grow hot, but keeps his hand tight around Derek’s.

“Any signaling may have been unintentional at first but now it’s completely intentional,” Stiles explains. He winces and realizes that sentence doesn’t really make any sense when he sees Derek’s confused face, and decides to abandon his usually trustworthy words in this case. He squeezes Derek’s hand, hoping that actions do speak louder than words.

Derek squeezes back and slowly starts to smile, but that’s when Stiles’ brain-to-mouth filter leaves him and he says, “Please don’t hate me for this, okay, but those notes? They were originally...meant for Lydia.”

He winces and closes his eyes for the fallout. It never comes. Derek’s grip goes a little slack but then he tightens it again and Stiles opens his eyes.

“Originally?” Derek asks. Stiles blinks at him and says “What?”

“Originally?” Derek repeats. “You said the notes were originally meant for Lydia.”

“Yeah, I mean— I,” Stiles stutters and then takes a breath. Time to go big or go home. “Yeah, they were, and I didn’t realize I was putting them into the wrong locker, but then you were my partner in English and I always had a low-key crush on you that I thought would never be mutual, you know? Because you’re _you_ and I’m me, and anyway. We started talking and you were just, ugh, so smart and nice and pretty, and you read comic books and you really love your sisters even though they bug you all the time, and that low-key crush isn’t low-key at all anymore,” Stiles ends with an awkward kind of laugh.

Derek’s looking at him all stunned and wide-eyed and he says, “You had a crush on me?” in this disbelieving kind of voice.

Stiles blushes and his skin goes all splotchy the way it always does when he blushes too long, but he says, “Yeah, for a while now.”

“What about Lydia? You’ve always – I mean – I thought,” Derek’s tripping over the words and Stiles puts him out of his misery, says frankly, “Well, you basically triggered the realization that I could definitely bat for the other team too,” and watches in delight as Derek’s face turns an adorable shade of pink.

Derek Hale, adorable blushing nerd. Imagine that.

“And Lydia,” Stiles continues. “I kind of figured out that I was in love with the idea of her, you know? I don’t know her very much at all. And I do know you. And I want to get to know you even better.” He waggles his eyebrows and hopes he doesn’t look quite as ridiculous as he feels.

Derek gets pinker, but he’s grinning too, bright and wide. “You’re such a sap,” he says.

“Hey—” Stiles begins to say indignantly, but then Derek leans forwards, cuts off his retort with a kiss. Stiles continues talking ineffectively for a few seconds before his brain kicks in and then he gets with the program, flings his arms around Derek’s neck and kisses back. It’s amazing in the best way, and it’s the most phenomenal first kiss anyone could have ever wished for.

Stiles reminds himself to say thanks to Scott later, when he comes up for air and finally tears his eyes away from Derek’s kiss-swollen lips and mussed up hair (debauched is a good look on him). Scott is a genius.


End file.
